


Grapes In The Outrealm

by GaleCrowley



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Sex, Erotica, Oral Sex, Other, Sex, Slime, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleCrowley/pseuds/GaleCrowley
Summary: Tharja, while with the Shepards in an Outrealm on a mission, discovers a slimy creature she finds curious ... and one that's quite curious to explore her, as well.





	Grapes In The Outrealm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaskOfShame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskOfShame/gifts).



Traveling through a portal, a segment of the Shepherds entered into an Outrealm. Once more out into the unknown, into the other worlds, in the hopes of finding resources, herbs to heal their soldiers, food to fill their bellies, and weapons to arm them, so they could carry on their good fight and save the people from the bandits who were terrorizing the land with their pillaging and theft.

But Tharja, the beautiful, raven-haired woman marching at the back of the squad, wasn’t really interested in any of that save-the-world philanthropic nonsense. No, she was in this war, in this faction, entirely for her own gain, as she had fallen in love with Robin, the army’s leader, and hoped to make them fall in love with her.

In the meantime, she was going to get what she could out of this conflict. Find lost sources of arcane knowledge, perhaps meet a few retired witches and sorcerers and learn from their wisdom and experience with their dark craft, and gather materials with which she would conduct her dark rituals.

“Hey!” the squad commander shouted, noticing a lagging behind  his troop. “Keep up, soldiers! And you there in the back, especially you!”

“Who, me?” Tharja asked, pointing a hand at her chest innocently when she saw the commander was pointing at her. “Why, I’m just a delicate little lady. I’m not used to marching. You need to give me time to catch up in these heels.”

The commander glared at her, before turning his attention back to the front.

Tharja giggled to herself, feeling confident she had got one over him. She’d be damned if she was going to march in formation with the rest of these … non-magical folk, who not only failed to show any appreciation of her arts with anything except fear about what she could do to them if she so decided, but also failed to express an adequate appreciation of her beauty.

Not that she would care for them if they did. Her heart, her eyes, were set only on Robin. But still, it would be nice if someone would come out and tell her, if they would reassure her of what she already knew, every now and again.

As they marched, and Tharja walked at her own leisurely place, she couldn’t help but notice the wide variety of flora around. Trees, bushes, ivies, flowers abounded, with blooming beds in a rainbow of colors, ranging from a bright yellow to a dark indigo color, crawling up around the tree in a creeper vine.

“Hmm,” Tharja thought. Surely, with all these plants around, there must be something in this Outrealm that she could use for her magic. The statistical odds of there not being anything were almost comically low.

“Attention!” the commanded shouted loudly, and the whole band came to a halt.

“What’s going on?” Tharja asked.

“Maybe if you would be quiet and listen, you might learn,” a soldier whispered back.

Tharja groaned. “But that would require listening to …  _ people _ .”

“Shh!”

“We’ve got a long mission ahead of us, ladies and gentlemen,” the commander said. “After some scouting, I’ve determined this to be the best area to set up camp. If you will all please begin setting up your respective tents so we have our base established, and do it quickly, so we can get on with our mission. Dismissed!”

The commander saluted, and the soldiers salute.

Tharja, her magic having advanced far beyond what any of these drones would learn if they had another twenty years to them, simply waved her hand, and a tent appeared for her, fully constructed. She hated wasting time on learning basic spells for necessities, when she could have been dedicating that time to learning more dark arts instead, but on occasion, such as this one, it came in handy every now and again.

Tharja went inside her tent and laid down to rest, knowing, and not caring, about the resentment the other soldiers had for her, as they had to get into the dirt and set up their tents by their clumsy hands with awkward tools. Honestly, Tharja didn’t know how they got anything done without magic. 

Of course, they were smart enough to never voice their resentment to her face, lest they might wake up the next ‘morrow with a vital organ missing, taken by Tharja for use in some demonic ritual of unknown origin and poor forethought.

Tharja rested, closing her eyes while she could. She was sure one of the soldiers would be vapid enough to come up to her and politely ask her to help them set up the rest of the tents, not knowing about her anti-social tendencies, or knowing, but risking it in the hopes of taking shortcuts with their work and saving time.

As she expected, soon, two of Robin’s sniveling men - honestly, she couldn’t imagine why such a powerful, charismatic individual stood to hang about with these layabouts - came into her tent.

Oh, she thought, perhaps it’s because they’re so charismatic they let these dogs in - as proof they’ll accept anybody into their ranks.

“What do you want?” Tharja snapped at them, barely opening her eyes.

“Well,” one of them rolled his hands together, “I know you don’t like to be disturbed, Tharja, but I was hoping maybe you would help us set some of the other tents?”

Tharja glared at him. “Why should I waste my talent on helping you with such a meager task? I’m a sorceress of the highest caliber, not some farmworker.”

“You’re still part of this army, you-” the first soldier was cut off by the second before he said something that Tharja would make him regret.

“Do this one teeny little thing for us, Tharja, and we promise none of us will bother you for the rest of the day,” he offered.

The first soldier looked at the second with some uncertainty about the idea of cutting off Tharja’s magic for any favors, but kept silent.

“None of you?” Tharja asked,definitely considering it.

“Well, except for the commander, of course, and only if there’s fighting to be done,” the soldier said. “What do you say? Will you do it?”

“Mm, perhaps if you get on your knees and beg,” Tharja said.

The first soldier huffed indignantly, but the second one kneeled, clapping his hands together. “Pleeease?”

“Ha ha!” Tharja laughed. “Excellent, excellent. Very well. I’ll do this for you.”

Tharja walked out of her tent, and towards the end of the rows of unbuilt tents. She waved her hand, and the tents magically assembled, snapping together with precision into well-built, sturdy tents at the wave of her hand.

“Thank you,” the soldier said.

“Remember your promise.” Tharja pointed a finger at him.

The troop nodded and went away.

Tharja was about to go back to her tent, when she looked around and noticed beautiful flowers with violet buds in bloom growing just a short walk away from camp.

“Ooh, now you look promising,” Tharja said.

She walked up to the flowers and bent down to pluck their leaves, but before she did, something else caught her eye.

Up further ahead, some small distance away from the camp, though not too far away, was a gelatinous purple mass lying at rest. It had the rough shape of a bean, and it was about the size of a good pillow.

Curious, Tharja left the petals on their flowers and walked towards the mass.

Approaching it and leaning over it, Tharja could see her reflection inside the blob. It was shiny, and the sunlight hit it in just the right spot to give it a lustrous gleam. 

“Interesting,” Tharja said to herself. “But what is it?”

Tharja gave the thing a light kick with her foot, the tip of her shoe getting lodged into the thing. It barely moved.

“It doesn’t seem to do anything.” Tharja observed, before discovering she couldn’t get her foot out of the mass. It was stuck. The thing had glued itself to her shoe.

Tharja groaned and struggled, trying to vain to yank her shoe free.

She reached down to pry the shoe off and sacrifice it for her freedom. Damn the shoe, it was just a shoe. She was getting out of it.

But before her hands could reach her boot to remove it, the mass sprouted appendages which scared her hands off.

The appendages climbed up her foot and inched up her legs, with a seeming aim of working towards her abdomen..

Tharja wasn’t sure she liked where this was going, but the gooey substance had her stuck tight. Her leg budged a little, but she couldn’t get it free of the slime that was quickly encasing it.

Tharja raised her hand up, preparing a spell to destroy the creature. If she blew off her leg in the process, well, she could learn a spell to grow a new one… or salvage one off a soldier who fell in battle. She was in a war. Casualties were inevitable.

But then something strange happened. The slime, as if sensing her murderous intent, gargled and warbled. Bumps formed on the end opposite from the one Tharja was stuck in, rising up, and they almost seemed to be trying to take on the shape of a human face and fingers, but they couldn’t maintain their cohesion, and so fell back into the slime, rendering its surface smooth again.

Tharja became interested in this brief display of the desire to take on human shape, so she stopped resisting and let the slime do as it wanted.

Its tendrils continued to slither up her leg, reaching her thigh and then made its way, inch by inch, over to her crotch.

The tendrils began pulling at her underwear, taking advantage of her lacy, skin-revealing outfit to quickly plunge their way through her clothes and reach her vagina.

Tharja blushed and grimaced. Despite the off-putting and cold persona she put up around others, she was inexperienced with matters of sex, and didn’t really know what to expect when this happened.

“Ooh.” She moaned as a little tip of the slimy appendage began rubbing the inside of her entrance, as well as around her thighs.

The slime continued climbing up her body. By now the goo had reached her second leg, as if the slime was going to envelope her, like a fossil in amber.

The trailing appendages curled around her hips and to her backside, giving an appreciate sweep of her butt cheeks. This made her blush further.

“What - what are you doing?” Tharja stammered out, but the slime didn’t answer her. It only continued to wrap itself around.

The member in her pussy continued to rub her, bobbing in and out like a fishing lure, getting a rise of her. Tharja began to feel warm and wet.

“What … what’s happening to my body?” She had done a lot of things to her body, and to the bodies of others over the years with her magical experiments, but she had never experienced anything like this before.

She picked up a musky scent from the area. She looked around for the source for several moments before she realized the smell was coming from her, from the unfamiliar, thin liquid coming out of her privates, the secretions leaking out in response of the slime’s tender touch.

A soft moan escaped her lips.

“It feels so … so good,” Tharja said, eyelids fluttering as the slime continued to rub.

The slime appendage rubbing her inner walls went deeper, going nice and slow so she had the time to adjust. Its massaging relaxed her muscles, so it became easier for the tendril to worm deeper inside.

“Mmph,” Tharja flinched as the slime hit an obstruction - her hymen. It rubbed at it some more until she relaxed, and the hymen retracted out of the way.

The slime went deeper and settled in. Once it had found what was a good amount of length to be inside Tharja, it pumped, pulling and pushing itself into her slit with a forcefulness it lacked before.

In surprise, Tharja tried to pull back, but the slime’s tentacles had encased her legs, and she couldn’t do much more than budge.

She let out a pained groan as the thing pumped slightly too fast for her to be comfortable.

To her amazement, it responded to her vocalizations, slowing down accordingly to make it more palatable.

A head half-formed at its base, peeking up as if to ask for her approval if this speed was okay.

Tharja signed a thumbs-up at her, and the slime made a malformed face which gave a big, dopey smile, before the form lost cohesion again and once more sank inside the slime.

Now Tharja finally put it together.

This thing, whatever it was, wanted to have sex with her. Of course, being Tharja, if it could lead to something she dubbed useful, or at least interesting, she was totally down for getting down and dirty with an otherworldly slime from an Outrealm.

“Oh, yes,” Tharja moaned, putting her fingers around her thighs as the slime reached a steady, smooth pace that was far more pleasurable to her. “Do it. Make me … haa … make me cum.”

The slime heard, and the slime obeyed.

It pumped in her just a teeny bit faster, also making the end of the tentacle inside a few centimeters larger and reshaped the end into a form more resembling that of a thick, stocky cock. Meanwhile, some of its other appendages resumed rubbing at the inside of her thighs,

Tharja, panting, reached her fingers to her thighs and joined the slime in rubbing them, her fingers intertwining with the goo, the slime swishing up and down her body like waves breaking on a rock, with her fingers nestled inside the jelly of its form.

Tharja took a deep breath and closed her eyes, getting close to her peak. She wanted it to slow it down and savor it for as long as she could … but that wasn’t for all that long, at least by her standards.

The slime kept pumping, and Tharja came, her vagina contracting and squirting out a stream of cum onto the tentacle-cock. She rolled her head back, her mind going to pieces in the throes of her pleasure. She couldn’t even think of anything sarcastic to say - she, Tharja, the sorceress renowned for her sharp tongue, at a loss for sarcasm! It was inconceivable. But such was the pleasure she felt as she squirted into the slime.

The slime sucked up her essence. Tharja was fascinated to watch it travel down the inside of the tentacle like a see-through tube, the white extract sliding down until it reached the base of the creature.

When the main body received the nectar, it gurgled as it if moaning.

Once again, the slime attempted to form a head and some hands. But this time, it succeeded, the head rising out of the slime fully formed, with facial features and a rough approximation of hair, and long, slender arms tipped with thin fingers. It also plumped up breasts on its chest.

Facial features, breasts, and fingers which, Tharja realized, resembled her own. The slime was mimicking her.

“Fascinating,” Tharja mused. It appeared the slime was trying to duplicate her all along, and needed her cum as a reagent to finish the transformation. What could be the reason behind such mockery, such imitation of her form, she wondered? What was the purpose, the intent? Was it going to try to mimic her fully and replace her in the army, like a doppelganger, absorbing her as it replaced her being utterly? Or perhaps it was simply trying to become human, and thought this was the best way.

Or maybe it just wanted hands so it could jump up and grope her boobs, which was exactly what it did, stretching its body upwards to lay its hands on Tharja’s chest.

“Oh my,” Tharja mumbled, as the slime tweaked her nipples. “I’m not sure I’m … ready for another round.”

The slime lifted a hand up to Tharja’s cheek and cupped it. It was so strange to Tharja, to be comforted by her reflection, her spitting image. If not for the fact was made of purple slime, and it didn’t have legs, one wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

The duplicate smirked, an expression Tharja made often, but which she found unsettling when thrown back at her.

Slime-Tharja pumped the cock in Tharja’s vagina again, and Tharja could feel it stiffening up and getting harder.

Tharja gasped as the cock unloaded, shooting its load of spunk inside her. The cum splattered everywhere, droplets getting over everything … her dress, her underwear, the slime’s body. All of it was painted with flecks of white spooge splashing all over the place. Oddly, Tharja smelled grapes nearby afterward..

The slime’s expression was one of contentment and pleasure, while Tharja’s was one of shock and exhaustion, mouth agape, panting, a bit of drool dripping from her mouth.

The slime put a finger to its mouth, tilting its head like a child worried that they’d done something wrong.

“That was AMAZING!” Tharja assured them. “So hot … so heavy and thick … more! Give me more!”

The slime perked up, and complied happily.

Having forgotten that the slime had appendages on her backside, Tharja was surprised again when the slime’s feelers came together into the form of a second cock and rammed into her ass, tearing right through the fabric of her dress.

“Oh, now, you didn’t have to do that,” Tharja grumbled, upset at the damage.

She quickly lost her thoughts as the slime pumped its second member into her tight asshole. Tharja sighed happily as the cock became more anatomically accurate as it worked, right down to feeling bumpy veins flexing and flaring as it hardened.

Tharja was more than happy to receive the slime’s second load, cream splattering out from her ass like rain. But she didn’t care much about the cum that splashed and escaped, no. She cared about the hot - the hot, sticky, gooey cum - that went inside her. That traveled up into her body and filled her with an unfamiliar warmth that made her think she was going to cream a second time herself at any minute.

“More!” Tharja begged/demanded. “More! I want you to fill me … with your warmth!”

The slime smiled and obeyed. It opened its mouth and shot out its tongue, which brushed past Tharja’s lips and went inside her mouth before she processed what had happened.

Slime-Tharja pulled its face closer, giving Tharja a kiss as it swept its tongue along hers.

Tharja leaned into her kiss, sucking and nippling on her doppelganger’s gooey lips, though she was startled when the tongue turned into a cock - although perhaps she shouldn’t have been, as that seemed to be a recurring pattern with the slime.

Tharja’s moan came out muffled as the cock in her mouth blasted and bathed her tongue in grape-flavored cum, some of which leaked out and dripped down her chin.

Tharja swallowed it instinctively, as if she were an a animal - no, a construct, whose sole purpose was the swallowing and exchange of cum.

Tharja wriggle and writhed as all three cocks began sputtering splooge. She struggled, even though she knew she couldn’t escape, because she was acting entirely on lust and instinct now. The grapey drink was so warm, so warm. She loved it. She needed it. She wanted nothing, nothing, but to be as full of the lovely slime’s sweet juice as her body would physically let her be.

Cum continued to splash all over Tharja’s being, and some of it escaped their interlocked bodies and landed on the grass around them, making it look like someone had spilled milk on the area and filling it up with the scent of freshly plucked sweet grapes.

“Mmmph!” Tharja moaned, panted, and sweated as the slime filled her up. There was so much of it, and it was so thick … she could it feel sloshing around and sticking inside her belly. She wiggled, trying to make it slosh more and warm her up from the inside.

Tharja let out a grunt, reaching her limit again, cumming onto the tentacle inside her vagina a second time.

The second time was a repeat of the first, with Slime-Tharja sucking up Tharja’s nectar and taking it into their body. The puddle of slime stood up and stretched out, forming legs that matched Tharja’s own.

The slime began to disengage from Tharja. It gave her breasts another squeeze, then, rhymatically, gave a parting shot of grape-flavored cum into her mouth, then her vagina, then her ass, before unplugging and pulling it out, absorbing the tentacles back into its body.

Now, Slime-Tharja was an exact replica of Tharja, with a complete set of limbs, both arms and legs, and a facsimile of Tharja’s dress, hair and accessories.

Tharja stood there, panting as the slime’s leftovers leaked down her chin and out from her other orifices.

Slime-Tharja looked Tharja up and down, checking Tharja’s body to make sure it had caught all of the details perfectly.

Seemingly satisfied with its production, Slime-Tharja turned and began to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Thara groaned, weakly raising a hand. She blasted her duplicate with a spell and knocked it flat on it’s stomach.

“You don’t get …” Tharja growled, stalking after it as the slime desperately tried to crawl away. “To give me … some of the greatest pleasure I have felt in my life … and then just walk away!”

Tharja spread her hands out, then clapped them together. A bird cage appeared around Slime-Tharja and bound it in, squeezing their body in between the bars.

Tharja picked up the birdcage.

“I’m keeping you,” Tharja said, “at least until I understand what exactly makes you tic. But until then, you’re mine.”

Slime-Tharja looked at her pitifully, but they could tell Tharja wasn’t going to be swayed.

In a display of meek obedience, Slime-Tharja stuck out her tongue-dick for Tharja’s pleasure.

Tharja happily took her hand and rubbed the dick, curling her fingers around it, gripping it, squeezing the cum out and letting it drip down the side of her thumb.

“Now,” Tharja thought as she idly played with the slime’s tool. She looked at her body, covered with cum. “How to explain this to the captain when I get back … and where could I find some fresh grapes around here?”

**Author's Note:**

> Another hired piece. Not much to say about it, other than, as the customer themselves noted, the tongue-dick is weird. But sexy. I might like to write more things like that.
> 
> (this story was edited on 4/14/2018 with some small changes requested by the customer)


End file.
